Handprints in the Sand

During the past week, I’ve been reminded of a response I made last year at Leading Edge.

(For those who are not in the know, Leading Edge is a Baptist Holiday week with a spiritual edge. Sadly, it has just been announced that it will not be happening this August, due to low numbers booking.)

At one of our meetings, we arrived to find a sort of shallow sand-pit down the centre of the hall. I forget who was speaking, but reference was made to the account in John 8, where some Pharisees and teachers of the law brought before Jesus a woman who had been caught in the act of adultery. What should happen to her, they wanted to know? To begin with, Jesus said nothing. He just wrote on the ground.

At the end of the meeting, we were asked what we would like to write in the sand: a response, if you like, to the questions and demands of ministry that confront us. This is a photograph of my response: an imprint of my hands, one of them dragged down through the sand, getting all the dirt under my fingernails. It was to express a willingness to get my hands dirty in serving God.

In the past few weeks, God has certainly taken me up on that promise! I can’t go into the details but suffice to say that I have had to deal with a number of people in desperate need. I’m not complaining about that; it’s been a privilege to serve, but I have done very little of the routine pastoral work that I ought to have done and would expected to have done.

I am reminded, as I have been so many times, of the words of Juliet Kilpin at a Baptist Ministers’ conference several years ago. She talked of the times when we experience all sorts of interruptions to the ministry we are meant to be doing. Then she said, ‘The interruptions are the ministry.’

And they are! The interruptions are the ministry – although I am hoping for a few less of them this week!

Surviving the Tough Bits of Pastoral Ministry

It’s a pretty hectic time for me at the moment with all sorts of pastoral situations arising: some good, some sad, though none particularly bad. This Saturday, I am taking a wedding. Next Wednesday, I am taking the funeral of a church member just a few weeks after taking that of her husband. I was to be taking the funeral on Monday, of a woman who was married at our church about 62 years ago. That’s been postponed because, would you believe it, her husband has just died. So now we have a double funeral, the following week.

Those of us who are clergy never quite know what’s going to come our way. In a sense, funerals are quite routine but we can be affected by the sadness of the situation, especially for the families concerned. Weddings are less frequent for Baptist ministers like myself, who are not blessed with ‘pretty’ buildings! Other situations, though, can be immensely draining. I did not believe (although I was told – my college was good like that) that in 15 years as a Baptist minister I would have dealt with pastoral situations involving adultery, murder, psychiatric illness, suicide, exorcism, inter-family strife, child abuse, witchcraft and personal criticism galore. Some of it, yes, but all of it? And although these are the headline grabbers, they are really just the tip of the iceberg.

Of course, there are many good things in pastoral ministry, too! Yet how do we deal with all the baggage that comes our way, those of us in pastoral ministry, or a similar profession?

For me, it starts with remembering my identity. I am not defined by what I do in pastoral ministry. I am defined by who I am in Christ. If it were the former, every difficult pastoral issue has the potential to derail the pastor from his/her task. When it is the latter, we know that even if everything we try to sort out goes wrong, we still belong to God.

Secondly, it revolves around ‘calling’. I believe that God has called me to be a pastor. Despite what we sometimes think, God does not call pastors to be the problem-solvers. We are called to accompany people on the journey, and perhaps to give them choices, but it is up to them with God to sort things out. We, of course, can share the joy when they are, but need not wallow in sorrow when they are not.

Thirdly, I have tried to learn from the truth of Scripture. The words of 1 Peter 5:7 have been very helpful to me: ‘Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.’ I try to be a non-anxious presence (or at least, a less anxious one) when I am with those in need. When I leave them, and am wondering how on earth I can help, I will often say to God, ‘I can’t do the worrying about this! Will you take over?’

It works – mostly! And, I think, my ministry is better for it.

How do you cope?